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A man with a thin coat and dark hair sprinted down the path toward the cottage.

I wasn’t as frightened of him as I was of the girl chasing him. Even from here, I could see death in her eyes,and it aimed for him.

Before I could decide what to do, she’d thrown her long dagger and it struck true. The man fell.

My eyes shut but the image was already there.

I opened them to see the girl glance at the house. Delilah’s necklace warmed. Then a sound broke through the labyrinth, something large and vicious, and the girl looked there. I studied her as she peered in the distance. Pale hair, light skin, bright eyes, and a small frame. She couldn’t be much older than I was. From the array of weapons at her side and the fine make of her coat—or the fact that she had a coat—I guessed her to be a Pearl.

Still, strip all that away, and I wondered how different we were.

Whatever the noise was, she decided to go investigate. I waited until she was gone to run out the warmth of the cottage and into the cold, bitter day.

My stomach churned as I looked over the man. I couldn’t help him now. I didn’t have Leif’s healing tonight. It’d be better to walk away.

But he gurgled—a strained little breath—and I paused.

My eyes dipped, and I instantly regretted it.

“Askel,” I breathed.

Askel, the man who’d led me to this island in the first place, had gotten in after all. More than gotten in, he’d almost made it to the end. But all that came to a swift end.

I knelt by his side. The dagger was in the worst possible place—too close to his vital organs to be survivable, but not close enough to make it a quick end. His brown eyes were wide as he gasped for breath.

“Askel, I’m here,” I whispered.

We’d never been close. He shouldn’t find any comfort in my company. But his eyes found mine and something in them softened.

“Ren?” he sputtered.

“That’s right. It’s okay. You’re…you’re going to be okay.”

He nodded, though the snow was turning red.

“My wife said I shouldn’t come.”

I remembered. I’d watched them fight before trying to steal his note. That felt like a lifetime ago, instead of a few weeks.

“I’ll tell her of how far you got, and how valiantly you fought.” Telling him he’d be okay had been a lie, but this one was truth. “She’ll know you were a brave competitor.”

But he was shaking his head with what little energy he had left. “I saved a little boy earlier. Tell her of that instead.”

I nodded.

Askel continued to fight, but he couldn’t win. Before a minute passed, he stopped fighting for breath, and the light left his eyes.

I was growing tired of watching people die—especially while I could do nothing to save them.

“Rest well, Askel,” I whispered. I stood, lifting my axe and drying my eyes.

When I turned, the girl from before was three paces behind me.

I started to swing my axe, but she threw another blade before I could. The blade slid into my stomach, and for a heartbeat, there was nothing—just the cold shock of it, like ice spreading undermy skin. My breath hitched, caught somewhere between a gasp and a cry, but no sound came out. The world seemed to lurch sideways, tilting as the pain ignited, sharp and hot, blooming outward like fire racing through dry grass.

“That was really sweet of you to be with him as he dies,” the girl said. She stepped past me to yank her first blade from Askel’s body. “But I always return for my blades.”

I staggered back, clutching at the hilt protruding from me as though I could somehow will it away, make it vanish. My fingers touched the metal, and a fresh wave of agony surged through me, stealing the strength from my legs. I sank to my knees.